


The Arm-Wrestling Competition

by InsertImaginativeNameHere



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Actually fun I'm telling you, Childhood, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Gen, Reinhardt is a ridiculous man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:56:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9480158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertImaginativeNameHere/pseuds/InsertImaginativeNameHere
Summary: Fareeha is very excited to hang out with the team when they come over, especially when some idiot (Jesse) suggests an arm-wrestling competition against Reinhardt. Hijinks ensue.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xDomino009x](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xDomino009x/gifts).



> lemme just drop this here and laugh and run away  
> some notes: Mercy and Torb were considered to be in this originally, but lets assume they were busy when this went down. Angela was throwing herself into her studies and Torb wasnt really down for the social event. I considered including them but did not.   
> smol Pharah might seem a little smol but I'm basing her kinda on how my sister acts and my sister is 13 so if u think this is unrealistic for the age shes meant to be I would respectfully disagree. bc im fairly certain 'losing' her mother caused her to have a lot of character development and become more serious. smol Pharah is innocent.

“Off to bed Fareeha. Now, please.”

“But mooooooooom-” 

“I said  _ now _ .” Ana tapped her foot impatiently and her daughter knew not to push it. She slouched, rolling her eyes and trudging her way towards the stairs.

“Not fair. You know I’ve been looking forward to everyone being here! Gabe said he’d teach me checkers! You  _ promised _ .”

“Are you being a tyrant again, Ana?” Gabriel interrupted. He was smiling brightly and winked conspiratorially at Fareeha. She giggled.

“Gabriel Reyes, you are a menace of a man, filling my daughter with these ridiculous ideas and teenage rebellion. She is  _ thirteen _ , she goes to bed when I say.” Ana sighed. “Alright, just this once. But no misbehaving, or it’s to bed with you missy, you hear me?”

Fareeha did. She was over the moon. She’d be able to hang out with all the coolest people and be a proper grown up and show them how clever she was. It’d be awesome. She hugged her mother abruptly.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” Letting go she launched herself at Gabriel too. “Thank you Gabe!”

He smiled and ruffled her hair. “It was no problem. Now, I promised to play checkers with you, didn’t I?”

Nodding excitably she followed him through to the other room, where the other visiting members of Overwatch were helping themselves to drinks. That young man Gabriel had recruited recently was cockily challenging Reinhardt to an arm wrestle, something that seemed to be causing some despair to Jack. Gabriel set up the board and Fareeha sat down opposite. He went over the rules and they made their first moves.

“Aw, c’mon Rein buddy,” the idiot Jesse was saying. “We could do shots,” he suggested, half-jokingly half-completely sincere.

“Ahem,” Ana coughed loudly and indicated Fareeha. “ _ Nobody _ is doing shots under this roof, least of all you, Jesse McCree. I won’t stop you two arm-wrestling if you so please, but it’ll be your own fault when you lose not only the bout but whatever little dignity you possess.”

“You just got full-named by Ana,” Gabriel joked. “You’re in trouble now. Trust me on this, kid, she’s not gonna budge, no matter how much you complain.”

“Ah, Fareeha!” Reinhardt waved from across the table. “A pleasure to see you as always. You’re growing like a beanpole!”

“Hey there little lady,” Jesse called, giving her a winning smile. “And how are you this fine day?”

“I’m good, Jesse.” She heard her mother cough and rolled her eyes. “I mean, I’m  _ well _ .”

“Thank you, Fareeha. Shoddy grammar will get you nowhere in life.”

Jesse scoffed. “Well I don’t rightly know if that’s altogether true, ma’am. Ain’t never done nothin’ for me.” He beamed proudly and Fareeha couldn’t control her snickering. He was so doing the cowboy talk on purpose and it was hilarious. “And just you look at me now.”

“Very clever, Jesse,” Ana replied sarcastically. “Aren’t you just a shining star in the bright world of comedy?”

“You know me, darlin’.”

“Don’t you ‘darlin’’ me young man,” Ana scoffed. She had a teasing twinkle in her eyes.

Jesse blanched. “Sorry ma’am, I didn’t mean-”

“Just keep digging kid, just keep digging.” Gabriel laughed. He nudged Jack, who was looking a little distracted. “Show’s over, Morrison, we’re on downtime now. Grab a beer-” Ana glared. “A glass of wholesome child-appropriate all-american apple juice?” 

Jack managed a smile. “I’m good, thanks Reyes. Interested in seeing how this arm wrestle goes.”

“Y’all can laugh as much as ya want, I think the big guy’s all talk. Take him out of that big ol’ suit of armour and what d’ya get?”

Across the table, Reinhardt flexed. “Ach, Jesse, you tiny little child. If you’re that certain you can win, I invite you to dream on.” He rested a muscular arm on the table. “Well?”

Fareeha looked up from the checkerboard where Gabriel was instructing her, curiosity piqued. She had to see this.

Jesse grinned and took a sneaky sip from a flask at his hip that he offered Reinhardt, who accepted and practically downed the entire flask. 

“Ahhh, this is good. Very good... _ orange juice _ .” Even Reinhardt withered slightly under Ana’s glare. “What a shame there is none left.”

“Yeah, cryin’ shame,” Jesse muttered. “You have any idea how much that cost? I bought that with my first paycheck.”

“It was expensive, yes? Tasted excellent.” Reinhardt made an appreciative sound. 

“It  _ was _ expensive, actually, thank you very much. Very expensive orange juice.”

“They’re talking about alcohol, aren’t they?” Fareeha whispered.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “Now where did you get that idea from?”

“I’m not a little girl!” she was incredulous. “I  _ know _ things. Your move now.”

Gabriel frowned. “You’re doing well at this game. Give me a minute to think.”

“I’m going to win, aren’t I?”

“Let me think!” He looked up, distracted. The arm wrestle had begun. They were both drawn to that now, rather than the game. Jesse was throwing himself into it completely, openly cheating by using both hands, face turning redder and redder and still Reinhardt didn’t budge, just sat there smiling indulgently, And then he  _ did _ budge and Jesse was practically on the floor, clutching his arm and cursing.

“Jesus, Rein, you got no lowkey setting have ya? ‘s go big or go home with you.”

Reinhardt laughed loudly. “Who’s next? Jack? Gabriel? Give me a challenge here!”

Gabriel stood up from the game. Jack grabbed his arm. “You really going through with this?”

The other guy shrugged. “If nothing else, it’ll be a laugh, right?” He helped Jesse up, dusting him down. “Watch and learn, kid.”

To his credit, Gabriel managed to hold out a lot longer, without cheating once, and Reinhardt  _ didn’t _ utterly pulverise him, it was less unbalanced for sure. But on the other hand, it ended the same way, in defeat and friendly banter from Reinhardt.

Jack stepped up next, and he did reasonably okay, Reinhardt quavering almost imperceptibly before grinding him down and crushing him. Not that they’d expected anything less. Still, Jack was laughing along at his defeat and patted Reinhardt on the back in congratulations.

Meanwhile Ana watched dismissively and snorted. “Children.”

Fareeha stood up. She knew she wanted a turn. As long as she remembered she’d looked up to Reinhardt, in the literal and figurative senses of the phrase. Even losing to him would be something to brag about to her friends. Walking over, she took the seat opposite him and grinned.

He didn’t even bat an eyelid. “What’s this? A fearsome competitor indeed. Truly, I am quaking in my boots.” He wasn’t being sarcastic or mocking, there was no trace of condescension in his voice. There never was. There wasn’t an insincere bone in his body. He’d always treated her with the utmost respect. He set his arm on the table and she met it, her hand seeming incomparably tiny next to his, all but swallowed up.

She could win every arm-wrestling competition in her class, even beating the boys. But she knew this was an exercise in futility, it wouldn’t get anywhere. And so she moved first, putting all her weight behind it. To her surprise, Reinhardt shifted, muscles straining, trying to hold her back and losing ground. He pushed her back briefly, but floundered and she slammed his hand onto the table with a cry of victory.

“Yesssss! I win!” she cheered, to applause and amusement from the rest of the team.

Reinhardt clutched at his chest, feigning injury. “Ach, no! How can this be? How did I, the great Reinhardt Wilhelm lose? My, Fareeha, you must have been eating all your vegetables. You are truly a force to be reckoned with. I have met my match.”

Fareeha giggled, and was about to suggest another round to show off how good she was with her left arm too, when she felt a firm hand on her shoulder and heard the words; “Bed, young lady.”

She’d already argued herself a later bedtime. All she could do now was finish the game of checkers (which she won, of course - Jack had been giving her tactical input, aka cheating) and hurry upstairs to bed, where she lay awake, glowing with pride. She had beaten Reinhardt Wilhelm, last of the Crusaders. She had won.

She asked her mother for a poster of him for her very next birthday.

 

-

 

Downstairs the group were laughing. “Reinhardt, my friend, you are the world’s hammiest actor,” Ana said, smiling. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Alas, I admit it,” Reinhardt replied jovially. “I am something of a dramatic man, it has been said many a time. But did you see the smile on her little face? She will remember this day with joy for the rest of her life.”

“More like she’ll look back on it and think about what an old fraud you are,” Ana teased, taking the seat opposite Reinhardt. “Now then.  _ My turn _ .”

 

-

 

Some time later:

 

“Remember the arm-wrestling competition?” McCree said out of the blue one day. 

Pharah snorted. “Like I could forget it. I can’t believe I actually fell for Reinhardt’s bluster. I thought I’d won legitimately for years.”

“Heh, he’s magic like that. Real good guy. Y’know what you should do?” McCree grinned wickedly. “Challenge him again, your fancy-ass suit against his fancy-ass suit, all out. Wouldn’t that be wild?”

Pharah smirked. “You know, Jesse, I just might do that. I just might.”

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact every time I've written Reinhardt he flexes. its canon hes so ridiculous im telling u.   
> he flexes at least once a fic and im laughing bc its so in character  
> is Jesse underage drinking? probably. he's not a good example. just another way in which hes a lawless bad bean rebel. hes gonna...drink alcohol DUN DUN DUNNNNN Ana is not amused


End file.
